Nightly Admissions
by J.Rease
Summary: Quinn Fabray has a sleeping disorder; Rachel Berry is witness to it first hand. Prompt Fill. This is a Choose Your Own Ending Fic. Please read special instructions inside. Rated Obscene.
1. Special Instructions

**Special Instructions:**

This is a Choose Your Own Ending Fic. The fic you are about to read has TWO separate and UNRELATED endings. In order to read this fic properly, refer below to find specific instructions. If you do NOT want to read the original prompt, which is a TRIGGER fic, then refer to my alternate ending option. The second ending continues the basic concept, with a NON-TRIGGER ending.

**Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.**

**This FIC is rated ****M**

**Warnings**: Please do not flame me for posting any, either, or both versions of the prompt. I have put up appropriate warnings, ratings, as well as an option to read a non-trigger prompt fill. **THIS IS A GIRLPEEN FIC. **

All warnings have been made. See ORIGINAL PROMPT, and ALTERNATE ENDING instructions below.

ORIGINAL PROMPT:

From Deena

You totally owe me a prompt. So I want Faberry GIRLPEEN. But I want non-con. Non-con can turn into consent… Quinn has to have the girlpeen. Also, no punk Quinn. Crazy Quinn allowed. Intoxicated Quinn allowed. Angsty ending. Oneshot. I think that's it. (Oh, I guess I should ask nicely, *ehem* _please)._

_**If you want to read this fic arc, read Chapter 1, then proceed to chapter TWO. This chapter will be the exact outcome of the original prompt. It will include non-con. If you want to review for this prompt request, make sure you are on chapter two to review. **_

ALTERNATE ENDING: 

My response to the original prompt on my Tumblr:

So. Here's the deal. I keep getting the angsty hurt/comfort prompts. When I fill them, I get flames (go figure), and I don't want most of my profile to be consumed by one genre. So, to change it up a little, this arc is the angsty romantic option of the same fic.

**If you want to read this fic arc, read Chapter 1, then proceed to chapter THREE. The third chapter posted will be the romance version of the original prompt. It will NOT include non-con. It will be Girl!Peen, and it may be angsty, but it will have nothing of a non-consensual nature. **_**If you want to review for this prompt request, make sure you are on chapter three to review. **_

_**If you read both versions, please specify which ending you are reviewing. **_

**I don't care how many of you think this is unnecessary. It sucks that I get email, tumblr, aim and ff(dot)net hate, even though I put up copious amounts of warnings. If anything on this warning bothers you, please turn back now, and save the flames for cooking- **

**Jessica. **


	2. Chapter 1: Prologue

Title: Nightly Admissions  
Author: J Rease

Author's Note:

Sexsomnia:

What is Sexsomnia (Sleep Sex)?

Sexsomnia, also known as sleep sex, is a parasomnia that causes a person to engage in sexual behavior while sleeping. Characteristics of sexsomnia include performing the following during a non-REM sleep stage:

Masturbation  
Intercourse  
Fondling  
Sexual vocalizations  
Sexual assault

People who engage in sleep sex most often do not remember the event upon awakening. Sometimes they may wake up in the middle of an act confused about what is actually happening.

This fic deals heavily with Sexsomnia and non-consensual sex. Thank you to Lauren for being a wonderful soundboard and beta. I'd never get through these without her.

**Prologue**

Something jars you from your sleep. It's dark and your eyes take too long to adjust when you blink them open, so you can only feel the weight of something slung casually over your abdomen, fingertips daintily gripping at your side. It takes you a moment to realize where you are. Quinn's deep, even breathing reminds you quickly of your surroundings, and you realize that she is moving unknowingly in her sleep. She tugs you closer, and your body can only comply as silky strands of hair tickle at your neck, and Quinn's defined jaw presses slightly against your collar bone. You could easily fall back to sleep, and disregard the girl cuddling you absentmindedly. You sigh, too tired to correct her affection and comfortable enough to doze back off, when the hand at your side drags languidly underneath your tank top.

Your flesh prickles at the contact, goose bumps form in the wake of Quinn's moving fingers, and you bite the corner of your mouth to stop the surprised noise from slipping out. You are suddenly aware, the sleep fogging your sight instantly gone. You can only assume that she is still sleeping, her breathing unchanging as her hand settles on the space just above the waistband of your shorts before stilling. You let out a breath and close your eyes, hoping sleep doesn't evade you now that you've been woken.

You feel yourself drifting, your body at ease and light; on the precipice of sleep. Quinn moves again, nuzzling her nose into the crook of your neck before heavily inhaling; the exhale tickles erotically against the skin over your pulse point. Quinn nuzzles into you again before the full weight of her body settles over yours, a lithe leg situates over your hip and Quinn resumes whatever dream she's having while you lay there, wide awake. You don't know proper protocol. You and Quinn are friends now, and this is the first time you've slept over at her house. You surmise that the blonde doesn't know that she sleep cuddles, and you think that it will be a funny story over breakfast in the morning. You let your body relax, and you try your best to coax yourself back to bed.

Time passes that you can't account for, and you find yourself waking up again. The moon is shining through Quinn's bedroom window, and you can make out her porcelain skin in the night light. The leg thrown over your hip has pulled back, but Quinn's grip on your side has tightened. Something woke you again. You let your eyes trace around the room, trying to gather what it could have been this time. You yawn, and the tip of your chin grazes the crown of Quinn's skull. Her cheek is pressed against your chest, her hair a shroud over her serene face. She's drooling slightly, the damp space on your shirt evidence of how long she'd been sleeping there.

There is a clock on the bedside table. When your eyes focus, you scoff at the ghastly hour and try to will yourself to sleep through Quinn's movements. You don't want to wake her. You think to yourself that nothing could wake the blonde, who was dead to the world around her. The old Quinn would wake up mad; upset at the audacity of your position. But the Quinn you've come to know these last few months would wake differently. She would wake bashfully, rose tinted cheeks the hue of embarrassment with apologies on the tip of her tongue. There would be no insults or accusations, only the detangling of your limbs and the acknowledgment of her semi-odd sleeping habits. For that reason, you let your hand push her hair from her face, and you once again get comfortable, hoping this time to stay asleep.

Sleep comes quickly, and somewhere in your dreams you hear Quinn's voice. It's distant- a mere whisper against the noise of your subconscious. You hear your name, and something else, and you realize before you can stop it that you are waking up again. You're tired, but Quinn must be awake and maybe it's day time by now. Your eyes blink again into moonlight, and Quinn's head is resting against your stomach, her arms gripping both of your hips as her feet dangle dangerously near the bottom edge of the bed. It's hot. The skin of Quinn's cheek is moist against your sweating abdomen. She says your name again. "_**Rachel**_...", it rolls off her tongue like a practiced hymn, sing song and automatic. Her eyes are still closed. She is talking in her sleep, and you aren't sure if you should answer her quiet calling.

You let your eyes close again and you try to block out the sultry sounds of Quinn's voice. Her voice is deeper; rich and thick with scratchiness from sleep. Each time she calls your name, some part of her mouth grazes your stomach, and you have to stop the flutters from overcrowding your gut. You want to wake her, but the curiosity of what she is dreaming about you stops your hand from shaking her awake.

"MMmmhmm, Rachel, don't stop. That feels... mmmhmm, so good."

Something inside of you clenches. You suddenly feel like you are spying, the moment obviously a private one. You shake once at Quinn's shoulder, and again when she only turns her head and continues sleeping— her murmurs lost as her voice carries in the opposite direction. You sigh heavily, and abandon hope of sleep as Quinn's voice grows louder. You call her name and her head rises, jutting quickly from where it lay near your hip. When she turns to look at you, her eyebrows soar over closed lids, and she smiles lopsidedly before her head drops back down to your stomach. _Quinn sleeps like the dead_.

You vaguely warn yourself of waking sleep walkers, or rather, **cuddlers**... and you stay still as her breathing evens out once again. It's the most you can ask for, so you try to ignore the feeling of her lips pressing against the space below your navel, and you hope it's the last the blonde will stir in the night. You let out a shaky breath, and you wonder why you are more disappointed than relieved. Your eyes droop closed from exhaustion, and moments later your body calms enough to sleep.

End of Prologue.

To read the ORIGINAL PROMPT, proceed to chapter two.  
To read the ALTERNATE PROMPT, proceed to chapter three.


	3. Chapter 2: Original Prompt

You couldn't have been sleep for more than ten minutes. You know, because you feel like you'd only just closed your eyes. What woke you, this time, was the feeling of Quinn's mouth on your bare skin. She's hiked your tank up just below the bottom of your breasts, and your legs must have moved in your sleep, because she is settled between them, her belly button pressing into the juncture of your thighs. She is trailing up your stomach, wet peppered kisses that are too loud. She lets her tongue swirl tediously around your navel before she traces it lower. You lift your head from the pillow, and you inhale sharply when Quinn's tongue plays at the band of your shorts.

"Quinn, are- are you awake?"

It's a whisper, your voice seems lost in the sea of sensation. Quinn stops, a smile tugging at the corner her lips. Her eyes don't open, and she confirms your suspicions when she answers a question you hadn't asked her.

"God, Rach... your skin tastes so good."

Your head falls back to the pillow when Quinn kisses your side. You hate how marvelous this feels, but a voice in the back of your head is screaming at you that your boyfriend wouldn't approve of this type of behavior. Your hands push lightly at Quinn's shoulders.

"Quinn, stop, wake up."

Quinn doesn't stir-instead, her hands are everywhere at once, her fingers dancing over any exposed skin, distracting your protests. She is kissing and touching mostly your sides, and she climbs clumsily up your body until her lips brush over your ear.

"Come on, Rach... don't make me stop- don't you feel how hard you made me?"

You don't know how to take that comment. You are slightly flustered, and exposed. You wriggle beneath Quinn, stopping only when you feel her hands on either side of you trap your movement. You can't make sense of what Quinn is dreaming about until she rocks her hips against you. _You feel it_. It's thick and _hard_. It presses against intimate parts of you, and you instinctively buck against it. You are momentarily distracted, trying to make sense of the erection pressing into you.

"Quinn, wake up- you're dreaming..."

You don't want to wake Quinn's mother. You are whispering into Quinn's ear, trying not to let some part of you become offended that Quinn never confided in you this secret. Quinn's hips grind down, and your eyes flutter closed at the friction without your consent. You snap them open again; suddenly aware of the firm grip Quinn has on your hips. She's strong, there is authority in her movements, and you realize quickly that you won't be able to get out of this predicament if you don't get her to wake soon.

The next word that climbs up your throat is 'stop', but you choke on it when Quinn's mouth kisses along the column of your neck. You hate that you're responding, because this is wrong, and you are spoken for... but Quinn is beautiful and she is rendering you speechless with the very tip of her tongue. You arch into her and she pulls back, and her expression is one close to admiration; but her eyes are closed and her brow relaxed.

"I love you so much, Rachel..."

Quinn's hands navigate down your sides and back up, and when her fingertips touch the bottoms of your breasts, she kisses you, full on the lips. Her eyes are still closed, her expression unchanging. You stare openly at her as she kisses you, stunned by her bold confession; privy to her unhindered declaration. You are frozen to that moment, hoping that tomorrow won't come and make things awkward between you. You call her name against her open mouth just as her hands cup your breasts beneath your rolled up tank top, and this time your voice wavers with a moan that your brain hadn't warned you about.

Your eyes close tight as she gently circles her palms around your nipples, and you would be embarrassed if she were to wake to you this way, a quivering mess against her wandering hands. She pulls back, and she straddles you at the waist to pull off her own top, and you quickly look away as she pulls herself from her bottoms. You sit up halfway, expecting enough of an opening to get from under her. Her hands push you down lightly with reflexes that scare you for someone who's sleeping so deeply. She takes your hand and guides it to silky smooth skin that is warm and thick and hard somehow simultaneously. You won't look at her body. You can't. You won't be able to look her in the eye tomorrow if you see her so naked. If you see her in a way her conscious mind is not aware of.

She presses against your hand with a jut of her hips and she breaks the silence that has consumed the room.

"Please... Rachel. I need you...so badly."

You look at her; searching for something you can't find through her shut lids. She is still asleep, her closed eyes confusing against the pleading in her voice; her body trapped in some fantasy she is including you in. You don't know how to wake her; most of your attempts thus far have been ignored. She won't move from over you, and you don't want to shock her awake or push her off of you, aggressively- not that you even could. You don't know what she wants, other than for you to touch her. You squeeze the girth in your hand without looking, your eyes glued to hazel eyes hidden behind Quinn's closed lids. You stroke her length with your bottom lip pinched by your teeth, hoping that what you are doing is the right thing to do.

"Ahhhhghhh... yes, Rachel-just like that."

When she leans down to kiss you again, your hand falls away from her and you're momentarily enraptured with her mouth. Her penis is rubbing against your thigh, warm against your skin. You have so many questions. You don't know how to explain the not so feminine organ between Quinn's legs. You have other questions, too. You wonder how long she has loved you for. You wonder how you could have let something like this go unnoticed. Quinn's tongue traces over your bottom lip, before her mouth disappears. She is suddenly between your thighs, tugging her thumbs under the elastic of your shorts.

"Quinn-don't..."

The whisper is louder now, panicked. Quinn's hands are stronger than you ever remember them being, and when she tosses away your shorts, she is hovering over you again, pressing against you- bare. Suddenly things have progressed too fast. You hadn't expected Quinn to be capable of doing this, especially when she was still asleep. You can't gauge what she is expecting of you, and you realize when her thumbs press harder into your hip bone, that you can't move from beneath her.

"Q-Quinn... please wake up, you're scaring me."

She pulls away before pouting.

"Rachel... it's okay to be scared our first time... I know you'll like it... I'll be gentle."

The next kiss is pressed against your protests, and Quinn drifts downward until her thumbs are pulling you open. You feel her dainty fingertips spreading you, wider. Your breathing is erratic, and you're somewhat desperate to wake the blonde up; even though you're afraid that jolting her from sleep could have negative consequences.

"Quinn, please... don't do this. Wake up-"

Quinn's tongue pressing against your clit is one of the most earth shattering feelings you have ever experienced. You cry out, bringing your hand to catch the yelp that escapes as Quinn keeps pace. There is a pressure building, a familiar one that is choosing such an inopportune time to make itself known. Her eyes are shut, a perfectly arched eyebrow quirked as she laps at you, the noise wet and loud, contradicting the urge to stop her; evidence of your shameful arousal.

You try to scoot away from her, and her hands pull at your hips and tug you possessively back to her. It's hard keeping your moans in when she twirls her tongue maddeningly around the nub. You don't think your mind can comprehend this type of pleasure; after all... no one else has ever reduced you to this capacity. A flick of her tongue and you feel yourself pulse against her chin, the dampness a full on _**wet.**_ now. You hate that your body is responding. Anything you actually feel for Quinn seems tainted... because she is asleep and you aren't sure how aware she is right now. You whimper when her tongue flicks side to side, double tapping and hitting your clit in a way that almost makes you howl. You are so close. You are clenching, trying to get away from her mouth before you tumble over the edge.

She pulls away when your body begins to tremble. You gather your shaky breath and you open your eyes (when did they squeeze so tightly closed?). You half expect Quinn to be staring at you incredulously, terrified at the boundary she'd just crossed. But her eyes were still shut, her head thrown back as she fisted herself in her palm.

"You are so beautiful..."

The quirk in your lip betrays the feeling you should be feeling right now. The compliment is sincere and even with her eyes closed, you can tell that she means it. You shiver under her scrutiny, and take the moment to calm your quivering body. Quinn leans down to kiss you again, and suddenly you feel the head of her penis pressing stiffly against you. You feel stupid for not seizing the moment, so taken with emotion that you didn't get away; because you let your guard down.

The panic is back, and you are instantly afraid, because nothing you've done thus far has stopped anything Quinn had attempted. Your body was buzzing and you didn't know how far Quinn would actually go. You open your mouth to tell her no, to make her stop or to wake her up, but it dies on your tongue with a harsh thrust forward.

She's inside of you. She is completely inside you and there are tears in your eyes and she is so much thicker and longer than Finn, because it takes too long for your insides to accommodate. Her head is on your shoulder, she isn't moving, seemingly too enamored with the feeling herself to start. Your eyes close. You breathe deep and listen to the quake in your exhale as you try to relax your body. You know if you can relax, this might not hurt as much.

When she kisses you, a tear trails down your cheek. You hear it fall on the pillow under you, and you catch your breath when Quinn finally does move. Her shallow breath is beside your ear, and it tickles as she strokes. You try to pretend that this isn't happening; not this way. Quinn is chanting something in your ear, and you reach you hand to wipe away the streak settling on your face.

"You feel so tight..."

On the outstroke.

"You're so wet..."

When she pushes back in; to the hilt.

"I love you so much, Rachel... so much..."

And she tilts your hip up with one hand, and when she strokes back into you again she hits something inside you that has you close to how you felt earlier, at the mercy of her tongue. You mewl unintentionally, and get lost in the rocking motion. You are new to this feeling. The only sexual experience you've had was painful, awkward and short lived. Finn seems so inadequate now, now that you know how wonderful this can actually feel.

You know you will be sore tomorrow. Because Quinn is well endowed and it's a department that Finn was lacking in. Quinn is stroking harder into you. Your mouth is slack and your arms wrap around her without much thought. You forget quickly how wrong this is, and you are starting not to care that Quinn is sleeping. She kisses you again and she hooks the insides of her elbows behind your knees. You thank goodness that her bed isn't pushed against the wall because the noise she would be making from this frantic pace would surely wake the house.

"Are you close, Rach?"

Your eyes jump to hers when she says it. You are worried that she woke up, and that she would accuse you of taking advantage. Her eyes are still shut, and her face looks peaceful- even though she is pumping in and out of you. You are so wet that it's no longer uncomfortable, and the noise is only adding to the arousal that is building.

"Yes... d-don't stop, Quinn"

You're done fighting this. You want to finish now, because Quinn wouldn't stop regardless. You get lost in the feeling, because it feels amazing and you squeeze around her shaft and feel something inside you spasm. You have to squelch the sounds you're emitting, and Quinn's incessant "I love you's" are knocking you off kilter. She is deeper than anyone has ever been, and you find yourself matching her thrusts. You are swelling, and the feeling has you heady because no one has ever brought you to orgasm and you feel like this will be bigger and better than any you've ever been able to give yourself.

"Come for me, Rachel..."

The mere suggestion has your insides thundering. You feel the gush and squeeze, and you flutter around Quinn, her hips pumping in and out through the pressure you know she must feel. She pounds harder into you, the head of her penis finding something inside you that makes your eyes flick open and your insides shudder. You come hard around her at the moment she kisses you, all thoughts of stopping abandoned as you experience euphoria for the first time in your life.

Quinn leans forward with your legs still in the crooks of her elbows, the position has you pulsating around her, and you can hear her heavy breathing in your ear. Her chest is flush against yours and your breasts mingle as she continues thrusting. The view from this position is sexy, and you swear that the sight alone may just push you into another orgasm. Your legs burn, but you don't try to stop her ministrations. Her strokes are longer now, deeper as she pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you.

It's sporadic and fast and rough and hard and you find yourself falling into your second orgasm completely by mistake, Quinn's name a long grunt you hold through the convulsions. This time, however, Quinn is right behind you. You feel the warmth spread slowly inside you, her length somehow reaching deeper as she empties herself into you.

For some reason you expect her orgasm to wake her. She pulls out of you slowly, and you wince at the way your body feels stretched without her sheathed inside you. Her eyes are closed, a content smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She leans back and tucks her half erect penis back into her sweatpants. She falls heavily onto the bed, her arm wrapping around your hip so that her fingertips grip lightly at your side.

It's light outside. You stayed awake until the sun came, and you are sore, and confused, and exhausted. Quinn is sleeping silently beside you, like nothing just happened. You pull her arm off your stomach, glad when she doesn't grip tighter, and you stand on wobbly legs. You find your shorts and her shirt, and you don't think twice about tugging it over her head. For some reason you don't want her waking without clothes on. You tip toe to her bathroom and you shut the door quietly, silently freaking out as you pace the tiny space.

You're on birth control. You made sure of it right after you and Finn's first time. You can rest assured that _**that**_ base is covered. Even still, the insides of your thighs are sticky, and you smell of sweat and sex. You turn on the shower, sure that Quinn would manage to sleep through any noise you made. The water is cold as you step inside, and you stand a few moments through the frost until the steam starts rising in the bathroom. You can't tell if tears are falling with the spray…but if they are, they are tears of frustration. You honestly don't know what you should feel. Because Quinn had thought that she was dreaming, and you felt like you enjoyed it far too much. You haven't used soap yet. You stare down at your hands and you think, the water cascading down your body soothing to your brain. You don't know what to expect. You knew private things about Quinn, now. You have a secret of hers to keep too; with all this. And you don't understand what you should do next.

And there were still those _other implications._ Love; Quinn loves you. It's scary as a confirmation. Because sometimes you thought you _knew_… but often you tried to deny it. You want so badly not to be that girl. All of this is overwhelming. You pick up soap that smells like Quinn and you try not to inhale as you clean, diligently. By the time you've wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror, you've decided; you have to confront her about it… because she needed to know that she'd done this to you.

You put on your tank top and your shorts and you open the door at the same time Quinn's alarm blares. It takes most of your will power not to run back into the bathroom as the blonde on the bed sat up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. You watch her from the doorway as she rubs her face, confused as she looks over to you.

"What happened?"

She says it like it's happened dozens of times before, like she knows the routine and somehow recognizes the indicators of her nightly escapades. You take a deep breath and your hands fumble over each other as you try to string together words that would somehow make sense of this all.

"You were sleeping, but you kept moving. And you—we, I couldn't wake you and—I tried… I tried to stop you but you wouldn't wake up and now… I just…_Do you remember anything_?"

Quinn nods like you gave her a death sentence. She is staring at a spot on the sheet, preoccupied with whatever thoughts were warring in her mind. She rubbed her face again, this time pushing at the skin of her brow, seemingly holding back tears.

"No, I don't—I never remember what happens. But, I know something did I can…I can smell you."

A flash of Quinn's face buried between your thighs bombards your thoughts. You feel yourself blush. You know you shouldn't be embarrassed in this situation but you can't help the feeling rush to your cheeks. You look away, walking over to Quinn's desk chair to sit down, away from her.

"How far did it go?"

You almost don't want to tell her. You don't want to confirm her suspicions. It feels like she already knows, she has confirmation written on her face. You don't want to do that to her, for a moment; you don't want her to feel that disappointed in herself. But your thighs are burning and you feel empty, and she deserves the right to know.

"Sex…"

She nods again, a tear falling silently down her cheek, another one on the brim.

"_I am so sorry…_"

She breathes deeply, like suddenly the room is too small and she needs to think about wide open spaces. She tries, unsuccessfully, to look at you, but her gaze never reaches your eyes and you are sure that there is shame on her shoulders. She continues after a few seconds of quiet.

"I have a sleeping disorder. It rarely happens anymore. I'm not aware. I'm like an unwilling participant and I wake up midway through or right after and I just _know _that something bad happened. Santana used to tell me that I'd say and do weird things in my sleep. And she would try to wake me up and I never would."

An explanation. It makes you feel better that she wasn't _there_. Because you had convinced yourself that Quinn would never hurt you _that way_. You're still tense. You don't know how to have this kind of conversation and you expect her to want to know the details. Her voice breaks your train of thought.

"So you know now…about my secret."

You nod. You can't find your voice in all the confusion, and you don't know if your silence means you've accepted it…or if you just can't say anything to make it better.

"I- I would have told you. If anyone, I would have told you. I just thought it would be better to wait until I'm away from here. If anyone knew…it would be hell for me. Just like it was in middle school. Everyone found out about my condition and I just—I needed to get out of there. I needed to start over."

More explanations. She's giving you answers without you having to ask. More tears have fallen down Quinn's cheeks, and you find yourself empathizing with her. It's not her fault…just as much as it isn't yours. You would hug her…but you aren't sure if you would rather put space between you for now.

"I'm sorry… I understand if you, if you want to press charges. I've never forced someone to—I've never gone that far…"

"You didn't force me. It wasn't like that. You didn't hurt me I just couldn't slow you down."

Your voice surprises you. You guess that's the truth. You liked it. You enjoyed it. But there were so many steps that had been skipped you hate that you feel like you do now—cheated. But you don't know if you can tell her that. Right now you had to understand what all this meant. You have to get to the bottom of Quinn's feelings toward you. Because if she felt the way she'd whispered in your ear so many times earlier, maybe you wouldn't feel as hurt.

"Do you really, love me?"

Quinn's eyes snap to yours, frantic.

"You—you said it earlier. That you love me. Is it true?"

She looks back down at her hands.

"You weren't supposed to find out that way. I guess I always have. I just…I couldn't tell you that. So what? You could laugh in my face. I don't deserve your love. Most of the time I hated you for caring. You were always the only one who ever cared. And I fell in love with you after I'd made you an outcast. And I couldn't take it back. And I thought that maybe if I made amends and we took it slow and we became friends that I might have a chance. And look where that's gotten me."

She laughs brokenly, it's ironic, so melancholy a chuckle. You move from the chair and settle on the edge of the bed. You stayed away far enough to not overwhelm yourself with her presence, but close enough to ease her guilt with your proximity.

"You should have let me make that choice… to love you back. You should have given me a chance."

You reach a shaky hand out to her and you let it rest on the back of her hand. She doesn't move it away, but she makes no other movements that meeting your eyes again.

"I guess I missed that chance now huh?"

You squeeze her hand.

"I don't blame you for this. It wasn't a choice you had either. I think I can understand that. Accept it. But…now we have to work through it. We _can _get through this, Quinn. It'll just take time… and patience."

You pull your hand back.

"Will you tell Finn? I'm sure he won't feel as bad killing me knowing I'm not all female."

You shake your head.

"I… I don't know what I'll tell Finn. But anything I do tell him, won't reflect badly upon you. I'm just a little…confused right now. And I think it would be better if I were by myself for a while. I don't understand what I'm feeling right now. I wouldn't even know how to tell him how I felt…or why I felt that way. I just need to think. About everything."

Quinn nods at you, her lips a thin line, her gaze still averting yours.

"I do—love you I mean. If I could have stopped it, I would have. I would never—"

"I know, Quinn."

She nods again.

"I understand if you're ready to go home. Just, give me a minute to get dressed."

She gets up before you can answer. You hear the shower start moments later, snapping you from the daze you sat in on the edge of Quinn's bed. You didn't know how to feel. You wonder what would have happened had she woken up. You wonder how you'll feel about this after the evidence of the night isn't so fresh. You wonder more how **she** feels right now. You worry that she blames herself for what happened. You realize that you really don't want her to. You feel like this is something you can get over.

You listen to the sound of the shower, and occasionally a muffled sob and you feel your stomach knot. You want nothing more than to tell her that it'll be alright, and that she doesn't have to blame herself. You want nothing more than to hold her close and make her feel better. You realize that you're tired. You lie down on the bed, and you rest your head on Quinn's pillow. You try to stop your brain from buzzing, and you will yourself to sleep. You hear the door open to the bathroom in a haze of drowsiness, before Quinn spreads a blanket over top of where you are curled in the middle of her bed. She leans down over you momentarily, before kissing your forehead and whispering a quiet "I'm sorry". You think to yourself as you fall asleep in her bed, alone, that she'll make it up to you… you know that you'll find a way to make this right.

It's the last thought before you drifted off to sleep, finally.

End.


	4. Chapter 3 Alternate Ending

When you wake again, you're in a completely different position. The moon is in another part of the sky now, and the room is completely dark. You refuse to open your eyes. If you lay still you may even fall back to sleep without realizing you woke up this time. It feels like you've been sleeping for mere moments, dreams caught in the corners of your eyes; the darkness of the room deep enough to whisk you back to sleep. You are warm. With your eyes still shut you let your fingertips find the source of heat. Of course it's Quinn, the blonde is spooned behind you. Quinn's arm is tucked snuggly underneath your side, and her face burrows into the crook of your neck. She is pressed fully against your backside from torso to waist, but her legs are spread straight out, her hips twisted away from where you're sleeping. A possessive tug answers why you woke this time, Quinn's hand squeezing and pulling you closer, if possible, toward her. She groans, and the vibrations tickle faintly at your neck. You are tempted to turn around, unsure if she is still sleeping.

Quinn's mouth is moving, but through muffled noise and the distraction you are getting from the movement, you can't understand the quiet murmurs dancing on your flesh. The feeling of puckered lips against your neck forces your eyes wide open, and you try to readjust to the darkness of the room. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel her tongue trace pathways along your hairline and you try to turn around—stopped mid-motion by Quinn's flexing arm. You still your movements when she kisses just below your jaw, and you hear her whisper _'Don't'_ against the shell of your ear. Your eyes close reflexively when she sucks on the spot, twirling her tongue slowly to ease any discomfort.

Her lips press against your pulse point, and you catch yourself squeezing your thighs together to quell the thump that beats in sync to your speeding heartbeat. You tug Quinn's hand from beneath you, and you lace your fingers with hers and squeeze lightly as she plays with the exposed skin of your throat. When Quinn moans against you, it reverberates through your body like a shockwave and your back arches against her instinctually_. This is wrong_. You have a boyfriend, and Quinn is **just** your friend, and maybe you should stop before you have no control left- because Quinn is nibbling on your ear now, and you are close to ruining the shorts you are in. This is wrong in so many ways but you can't help but enjoy the pictures Quinn seems to be painting with her tongue.

Quinn pulls her fingers away from yours slowly, like she isn't sure if she should let go soon, and lets her hand rest on the muscles of your abdomen. She lifts your tank top slowly, her breath slow and shallow, her fingers shaky. She lets her hand fall beneath your navel, and she begins drawing circles, dainty fingertips leaving remnants of electricity in their wake. The husk of Quinn's heavy breath is loud in your ear, and her voice is dangerously deep when she whispers.

"I've always wanted to know what your skin felt like..."

Her hand is still rubbing circles, and you expect it to dip lower... it grazes so close to your waistband that you hold your breath until she slows the movement. Unexpectedly, her fingers reach upward, and she palms your breast and she squeezes. You bite your lip to keep the noise from tumbling out, and you feel the tops of Quinn's thighs touch yours for only seconds, before her leg slides seamlessly between yours. Her thigh is lithe, and it seems to touch all of the enflamed places of your sex. Her hand is kneading your breast lightly, her teeth nipping at your earlobe as you battle to stay sane through the sensation.

"I always imagined you'd fit perfectly in my hand..."

You don't know why the confession makes you pulse, but it does, and Quinn continues to fondle your breast; pinching your erect nipple lightly enough that you buck your hips, effectively dragging yourself over Quinn's firm thigh. The action makes you shudder, your body not ready for the overwhelming feeling of such an intense arousal. Quinn begins rocking against you, dragging her leg murderously backward and forward, parts of you so engorged that every place her leg touches evokes small explosions upon impact.

"Are you _wet_, Rachel?"

You whimper out a broken yes, and she pulls away from you quickly to roll you onto your back. She's between the V of your open thighs now, sitting on her legs.

"How wet are you?"

You wish in that moment for light. You wish for the sun to rise instantly, so you could see her face. Her voice is calm and even, as if she were reciting something from memory. You clear your throat to answer her, suddenly shy to admit just how soaked you are.

"I'm... **drenched**."

The guttural growl that purrs from Quinn makes you ache instantly. You feel the bed shift, and she rests her hand on your knee before speaking.

"_Show me..._"

If you wanted to stop, now would be the time. But no amount of logic could combat the need you felt inside you, and Quinn wanted to touch you in the place that needed attention— no, stopping wasn't really an option anymore. You put your hand on top of hers and you let it drag down the slope of your spread thigh, and down to the damp crotch of your shorts. You guide her finger over the soiled fabric, and you press her fingertip against your clit before dragging it down the length of your slit again. You hear Quinn's loud intake of breath, the shock of your evident arousal releasing a noise akin to awe. She runs her fingers over the length of you a few more times without your guidance, before leaning back on her legs again.

"I want to feel you, Rachel...may I?"

You both haven't spoken louder than a whisper since you woke, and you really wish you could see her face... because you are kind of nervous and a bit unsure if you should let her touch you so intimately. But the voice in your head is loud, urging you forward. You'd already crossed the line, and you wouldn't turn back now. You swallow the dryness in your mouth and you tell Quinn it's okay. She pulls down your shorts slowly, and you breathe deep when she tosses them into the darkness. You hear more rustling fabric, and the bed dips right before you feel Quinn's fingers ghost through your folds. She strokes the wet skin, torturing you with the tedious pull and drop of her soft fingers-dancing around your clit like she knew how close she had you to the brink.

"Oh God Rachel, I'm so hard."

The comment catches you off guard. You're suddenly distracted with what Quinn could have meant. She doesn't let you ask the question teetering on the tip of your tongue, because she leans over you and kisses you on the mouth for the first time. She is balancing on her palms, her mouth moving expertly against yours and you see fireworks. No one has ever kissed you this way before. It's slow and purposed, like she knows your body better than you do and she has decided to take her time just to torture you. She kisses you fully, her tongue tracing over your bottom lip, her head tilted to avoid your nose before her tongue passes the threshold of your mouth and—and you forget everything. You don't know your name right now and the edges of your vision are blurred even though your eyes are closed and all you see is white flashes exploding on the backs of your eyelids. You worry that when you open them this kiss may have transported you somewhere different. Because surely you are floating; surely this feels so good that it can't be real anymore. Maybe you are dreaming...because the way Quinn is kissing you... you can't be quite sure that you ever really woke up. You moan into her mouth and you fist your hand in her shirt, your other hand crawls into her hair. Her stomach is pressing against your sex, and you want nothing more than to pull her to you and wrap your legs around her. You tug on her shirt and Quinn's body weight comes crashing down on top of you, her arms too weak to support her trembling body.

And then you remember.

You remember that you made her _hard_, and she'd said that because she was _erect_. Because now Quinn's penis was pressing against you, and nothing but the thin layer of her underwear separates you. You convince yourself that you are wide awake, but you don't ask questions, because Quinn resumes kissing you, like the penis pressing against your clit is normal. You save the questions you have for when the lights turn on, because Quinn rolls her length against you and your head tilts back to accommodate the keening noise that quivers from your throat. You wrap your legs around Quinn's waist and you squeeze your thighs when the hard thickness of her shaft drags along your slit again, just as Quinn moves her mouth from yours to speak.

"I've wondered how I'd feel inside you..."

She strokes against you, grinding against your slick, feverish flesh.

"I've wanted to know how you smelled."

She strokes again, this time pressing her hands downward on your hips, as she inhales the crook of your neck— the pressure sending involuntary spasms to your center.

"I've wanted to taste you..."

She trembles when she strokes against you this time. You are thumping-eager for her to continue. You are so wet that Quinn would slip in if she weren't wearing underwear, she would slide inside you and fill in all the spaces Finn would never reach. You want so badly to pull down her underwear... to feel her bare skin against you. She is picking up speed with each thrust, and you wonder how much longer you can do this without finishing before her. Her strokes grow shorter and more desperate, and you have to bite your lip from screaming from the pure pleasure you are getting from it. Quinn seems harder than she had been before; your clit is swollen and the friction Quinn is causing has you quivering.

She pulls away slightly, and you let out a heavy, shaky sigh, the cold air taking Quinn's place as she makes adjustments. You curse the dark because you don't know what she is doing and you feel your thighs twitch with anticipation of her return. She falls forward breathless, catching your shirt with her hands and tugging it upward before settling. You feel her breasts against yours, warm and soft. The contact has your body reeling, back on edge when she pumps her hips against your clit. Her strokes are slower, like she found focus sometime after taking off her shirt. She is grinding into you so hard now that your head is thrashing against the pillow. She puts a hand on your waist and she braces herself.

"I always think about how you'll come..."

She strokes against you hard enough that you feel her spread you open... and you wonder if you've left a wet patch on her underwear. She grabs your hips and she rolls them backward until your ankles are by your ears. You are flexible enough that the stretch doesn't hurt, but the burn registers when Quinn settles on top of you. Your clit is exposed and extremely sensitive and you are nervous about what Quinn is about to do. When she presses her hips against you this time, she kisses you on the mouth and she grinds circles into your sex. You can't breathe. The rocking is stealing your breath and you are sweating and you feel like this build up might knock you out soon.

But then it happens.

Quinn is bucking uncontrollably against you, her hips jutting and bumping into you in a delicious mesh of pressure and stroke. A final drag of her hip undoes the both of you. Your orgasm is pulsing and thundering through you, and your toes curl as you feel the stretch and spurt of Quinn's penis, her underwear hot and sticky. You let your hips fall flat as Quinn rolls halfway off you, reaching over to the bedside table to flick on the lamp.

The light is blinding. It takes a moment for your eyes to get used to the bright, but when you do, all you see is the confusion on Quinn's face. You pull yourself up against the headboard, pulling your shirt down enough to cover the top half of your body. Quinn is rubbing her eyes, disoriented, as she takes in the scene laid out before her. She notices first that you are half naked, arousal smeared and musky on your thighs; face flushed. She notices next the dwindling bulge in her own underwear, the dark grey spot sticking to her skin. She looks between you and the spot on her boxer briefs and you watch her face morph from confusion to embarrassment.

"What all... what did- did we? Rachel- anything I did... it wasn't me- I wasn't... I was _sleeping_."

There was a look of horror on Quinn's face that you've never seen before. Followed almost immediately by shame and next a panicked look of uneasiness. She bound off the bed, topless, and ran clumsily to the bathroom. You sat quietly on the bed, listening to her wretch. And then it sinks in. She had been asleep. You feel stupid momentarily, after waking up to her cuddling in her sleep earlier, you should have been suspicious. In hindsight, it seemed obvious that something was amiss. Her lazy drawl and her wandering kisses, her blatant disregard for the penis she never told you about. Quinn had been dreaming doing those things to you...and it manifested in what had just happened. You wonder, over the noises of Quinn's upheaval, how she must feel. There were feelings there, obviously, if in her dreams she thought of you that way. There must have been feelings there for you too... because you let it happen without much protest, and even in the aftermath you can admit that it was greatest sexual experience you've had thus far. And for that to be true for you... it probably meant that your feelings for Quinn ran deeper than platonic.

The running faucet snapped you out of the trance you were sitting in. You stand, searching for your shorts in the blankets of the bed and on the floor. Finding them on the seat of Quinn's computer chair you pull them up, trying not to focus on the discomfort of the wet material, and made your way to the bathroom door. You knocked twice with no answer, calling out to Quinn before threatening to barge in. She came to the door seconds later, a towel wrapped around her torso. She didn't look you in the eye as she sat on her bed, and she cleared her throat multiple times before finally speaking.

"Did we... um. Was there sex? Did I not get up when you tried to wake me? Did I force- did I hurt you?"

She whispered it while staring at the floor. You have too many questions you want to ask her, and she is wallowing in a guilt she really shouldn't feel. You speak up before she barrels into the blame game.

"Nothing... nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. And no ...we, we didn't have intercourse. However...I didn't realize you were sleeping."

Quinn's shoulders sagged in what you hoped was relief. She turned to look at you, a melancholy look on her face.

"So... I guess my secret's out, huh?"

Her eyes drift away from you and she tucks her towel in tighter.

"It's not a bad secret... there is nothing wrong with having a penis Quinn. Although I am stumped as to how you gave birth to a child when you have a-"

Quinn was staring at you like you'd grown an extra head. A bashful smile spread across her cheeks and she kicks her bare feet out in front of her before interrupting you.

"I meant... my secret about liking you."

Your mouth snaps shut. _**oh**_. You felt like you knew all along... you just chose not to acknowledge it because you told yourself you had everything you were supposed to have. Denial... you were in denial.

"Why... why was it such a secret? You could have told me, about both things- we are friends now, and you can trust me with your secrets."

Quinn shakes her head, her hands fall to her lap as she idly examines her fingers. You don't fill the silence with anything, you give her time to process her thoughts and you wait patiently. She breathes deeply, like she is preparing for a fight, before turning to look at you with a renewed sense of determination.

"Nothing would have changed had I told you that I... that I like you. I would have had to earn back all those years I was too busy hating you for my own attraction to you. We would have built a friendship, and maybe something could have come from it. But then I would have to tell you about my condition... and everything that goes with it and- it's nobody's burden but mine. And besides, you are happy with Finn, and I would rather see you happy... even if it's with someone else."

It's sweet. And your heart beats a bit harder knowing that she cares as much as she does.

"...I have never felt that way with anyone, Quinn. Not even Finn. I didn't stop you, and I didn't think twice about doing what we did. That says a lot. It makes me question if I even love Finn... if I did, this wouldn't have happened... I wonder if I'm more in love with the thought of him ya know?"

"...will you tell Finn? About tonight? I can understand if you don't...we can pretend that whatever happened- didn't."

You could. Because Quinn had been sleeping and it had been a misunderstanding. You could keep going like tonight was just a sleepover.

"I think I have to tell him. I have to think about everything...about what I know now that I didn't before. About the idea of us... just everything. It would be hard being with him, knowing what it can be like..."

Quinn's eyes snap to you.

"What, what all did we do?"

Quinn stands abruptly, walking over to her bureau to pull out an oversized tshirt. She tugs it over the towel and let it fall, and she turns to you after taking a steadying breath.

"We engaged in intercrural relations-"

"Laymen's terms, Rachel."

"...grinding."

Quinn's mouth settled into an O shape as she sat back down beside you. She had a lost look in her eyes. You reach your hand and let it rest lightly on top of hers.

"What's wrong? Quinn, I'm really not upset, I enjoyed myself quite a bit, even and-"

"I just wish I could remember. I've never... I've never used it that way before. And I got to with you tonight and it would have been nice to have some recollection." She sighed heavily before continuing.

"Rachel, I have a sleeping disorder. It started off small... I'd go to the fridge late at night to eat, or I would sit in front of the tv with my eyes closed. It went away for a while. Then it got worse. Sometimes I would call Santana in my sleep and just... go off on her. Then... when puberty hit, I would wake up wet, or... I would wake up doing inappropriate things to myself. Sometimes I would wake up with no explanation, but that feeling that something might have happened. It hasn't happened in a long time. And I thought I wouldn't have any problems sleeping next to you. I'm sorry... that it happened. But mostly because I don't remember. This time... I just really wish that I could."

You're surprised. Her confession is open and honest and you can't be upset at her. You aren't; you find yourself wishing she could remember too.

"So... do you have both? Or just..."

Quinn swallows, she grips the edge of the bed and turns away, before turning back to you, her face slightly flushed.

"Both... I have both. I just, I have more estrogen than I do testosterone...and my female organs are fully functional, but I can't produce sperm."

You feel silly for asking what you are about to. But you're curious. You'd just shared a wonderful experience with the blonde in front of you, one that she couldn't remember. You'd felt her pressed against you in the dark, and you wanted so badly to see her... to feel her.

"May I... may I see it?"

Quinn's eyes widen, hazel orbs stare penetratingly at you. She whispers her response.

"...you want to?"

You break eye contact.

"You... you were saying things in your sleep. About how...how you've wanted to know what I felt like, and smelled," you feel your cheeks on fire, "...you wanted to know what I tasted like. And I... I'm curious, about you too."

Quinn stiffens.

"Why? I've thought about you... romantically for a long time. I have a reason to want to know those things; to think about those things. Why do you want to see? You want to point at the freak show and pay me back for calling you names? "

You shake your head vigorously. Of course she is sensitive about this. But your past with her makes so much sense. Why she had such a vendetta against you... it finally adds up. You sigh deeply, and you try your best approach-honesty.

"I think I've proven how forgiving I can be. And I find it offensive that you think so low of me. I like you too, that way, Quinn- if I didn't, this would not have happened. I'm just... I'm curious about you. You, you got to touch me, the least you could do is just... show me."

"What does it mean, Rachel? I'm awake now. If I show you, it would be like slapping your boyfriend in the face. I've cheated before, I know the consequences."

You laugh out loud. So do you. You know the consequences well.

"Did you stop to think that maybe I want this. You are awake now, yea but so am I!"

You are still loud whispering, it's early. You're glad Quinn's mother is still sleeping, but you are losing your control over your temper. You take a deep breath and finish what you were saying, this time with a calmer tone.

"Quinn... I'm not one to have meaningless sex. And it's unfortunate that you weren't, aware. But- I wasn't aware either. We have this chemistry. We always have. And I have been trying to get closer to you for years. And I never knew why, Quinn. Why I wanted to be your friend so badly, or why I still wanted to be your friend through all the torture you put me through. It hasn't made sense until now. Until when you kissed me earlier and my world stopped. It makes sense now, Quinn— and maybe I've been asleep too, because it felt like waking up for the first time. I like you too, Quinn. And right now, Finn doesn't matter. It's just you and me and this- right now. We can worry about the technicalities tomorrow. But tonight... I just want to be close to you. I want to make you aware… of what you made me feel earlier."

Quinn blinks a few times. She opens her mouth and closes it again, before smiling down at her folded hands. You realize that you rushed all that out, without a breath between sentences. It's a lot to take in, but the small grin spreading across Quinn's face lets you know that she _gets_ it. She looks up at you for a long time, before leaning over to kiss you slowly on the mouth. Her hand cups your cheek and you find yourself lost from reality again, alone with this girl and her kisses. She pulls away, and tugs a whimper from your lips as she nods at you.

"Okay...I'll show you. But... I have to uh, I have to get hard or there won't be much to see."

There is a rose tint to Quinn's cheeks as she says it. You find it adorable that she is bashful, especially after what's already happened. You lean over to her, slowly, and you tug the collar of her t-shirt. You kiss her slowly, letting your hands run along her sides, trying to soothe the uneven breaths that lift and deflate her ribcage. She's tense, nervous even and you try to get her to relax. She lets her hand fall on your thigh, and you feel her thumb trace lightly over your skin. You want more of her. You want her body pressed tightly against yours and you want to smell her all around you. You pull on her shirt as you lean back, and she crawls over you and settles cautiously on top of you. You like this... her above you, staring directly into your eyes. You brace yourself for a moment, because you realize with her awake, you could get lost in the hazel intensity that is staring down at you.

She smiles.

It's timid and slow, and when she bites her lip and begins to turn away you catch her chin between your fingertips and you look at her. You let your eyes close as you reach up, your lips brushing against hers firmly. Your body falls quietly back to the bed, and Quinn finally lets her weight fall fully against you. She stares at you for a moment, like she is searching for answers without words, and before you can register the movement, she kisses you hungrily. Your legs wrap instinctually around her hips and your arms tangle around her neck. You let your fingertips slide into her hair and you let the strands tickle your palms as you kiss her back.

You do nothing but kiss at first. Quinn moves her hands slowly, navigating the curve of your hip, or grazing the space right below your armpit. She feels good settled between your thighs. There is a thickness growing where you rub against her, but Quinn seems cautious with you. Her movements seem maddening now that you know what it feels like when she touches you without inhibition. She begins sucking on your bottom lip, and you decide that it's time to turn the tables...you need her pressing harder against you. You throw your weight into her and you roll both of you over. She grips the bottoms of your legs and backs up until she is sitting against the headboard. You like being in her lap... level with her eyes with both legs straddling hers. She tries to kiss you, but you stop her, pressing one finger to her lips to stop her complaints.

The first thing you do is take off your shirt. She stares at you like you've just offered her a gift, and she swallows hard before wrapping her hands loosely around your hips. You grip the edges of her t-shirt, your eyes snapping to hers in silent permission. She nods, and you hear the exhale she takes right before you pull it over her head. Her hands grip tighter at your waist when they settle and you take a moment to look at her. The lamp on the bedside table casts a glow over her skin that makes her look heavenly. You lick your lips and you lean into her, delighted with how your body weight pushes you down over her half erect penis. You kiss her, letting your tongue twirl against hers, and you dizzy yourself with her mouth.

You break away from her moments later, breathless and disheveled, and you let the lazy smile curve your lips. You dip and let your lips press the side of her neck.

"MMMhhmm, _**yes**_ that feels so good, Rachel... don't stop that."

You continue, kissing down her neck with puckered lips until your mouth lands on the space just above her collarbone. Her hips jerk on impulse, and you both moan loudly at the friction that it causes. You find the spot again and you suck on it, happy with the growl she lets loose before kneading your bottom in her hands.

"Shouldn't we try to be quiet? Isn't your mom sleeping in the room next door?"

Quinn's head falls against your shoulder and she chuckles, answering with a smirk.

"My mom doesn't sleep she passes out. And I'm sure she probably fell asleep on the couch downstairs..."

She peppers a kiss on each side of your mouth and pulls away. She lets her head fall back against the headboard, and she stares at you. She pushes hair out of your face and she tugs you higher on her lap. Your noses are close to touching and you are sharing air between you. Her eyes have more green in them than brown now, and her eyelids are hooded and smoldering. You start rocking on her lap, slow strokes backward and forward, and you watch her. You memorize every look, every sound. You repeat motions that make her eyes flutter closed, or you apply pressure when she grunts and bites her lip. It's hot between you, and your chests touch each time you lift your hips up over her shaft.

You could do this until orgasm... again, but that wasn't your intention. You wanted to see her. You stop just as Quinn's breath hitches and you slide lower and settle near her knees. You look her in the eye when you grip a finger under the waistband of her underwear. You let your other hand graze slowly over her erection, and Quinn begins nodding when you squeeze it lightly in your hand. You pull the fabric down mid-thigh, but you don't break eye contact until she nods again at you—surely. Your eyes pace themselves as you stare downward, and your gaze locks on smooth, even skin.

You want it.

It's unexplainably beautiful, as is everything else belonging to Quinn Fabray. It's thick and it's soft and you reach your hand out to stroke it tentatively. Quinn's head thuds loudly against the headboard. She whines loudly when you lift off her to pull down your own shorts. They drop to the floor and you let out a breath as you stand before her, nude in the soft light. She doesn't move at first. She is fully erect now, her penis resting thickly against her stomach— and her eyes dip low as she looks over your body. You don't feel shy, and you stand under the scrutiny until she scoots off the bed to stand behind you. She pulls her underwear off and toes them aside before pressing against you, and you shiver when her hand barely touches the skin down your arm. She presses in slightly at the inside of your elbow and she traces the veins on your forearm until your hands are linked.

"I could never have imagined this..."

Quinn tugs you to her, and your eyes close when her erection presses into your bare back side. You find yourself lost for words, Quinn's breath in your ear mind numbing.

"You're beautiful, Rachel…so beautiful…"

It's a whisper, and suddenly she is spinning you on your heel. You are face to face when she kisses you, your eyes still closed and your bodies pressed together intimately. When you break away, you're both panting, and you want nothing more than to lay her down on that bed and—

You don't know what, yet. But you want it. You want it badly.

Quinn turns you both around, and you sit on the bed as she rests her back against the headboard again. She reaches out a hand and you follow her shortly, and you stand on your knees above her erection. All you had to do to _feel _her would be to sit, and the moist parts of you would slide over the bare parts of her and… well. You don't sit though, because it's alarming how _dangerous_ this situation could become. And while you are nude over her lap, you are still committed to someone else and this is already in so many ways wrong. You hate that you can't stop yourself; you hate how little self-control you have when she's involved. You slide back down her lap, and you position a thigh on either side of her left leg. You settle down and you like the way her thigh flexes against the most private areas of your sex. You lean forward and you kiss her again, greedy for the feeling you get whenever your mouth meets with hers.

Your hand wraps around the base of her. Your fingertips don't touch, and it makes you ache at the mere thought of what she would feel like, _inside you. _You grip and slide your hand up her shaft, and she puts her hands on your hips to tilt them upward slightly, before letting her thumb breeze over your swollen clit. You love her need to please you, and you enjoy the look you share between you as you rub against her thigh—as she bucks against your slowly moving hand. You don't know why it works, but you find a rhythm. You squeeze your thighs and clutch down over her, the pressure of her leg flexing against your opening as she thumbs your clit is mouthwatering. Your voices have been reduced to broken moans and stolen grunts, the rocking of the bed a steady reminder of your pace.

You are leaving streaks on her thigh as you continue to ride her leg, and your hand pumps her frantically as she strokes you. Quinn's other hand holds onto your thigh, and your head lolls back as she pulls you down on her now rising leg. The hand pulling down on your hip reaches out abruptly, and she rolls your nipple between her fingertips and you lean forward to kiss her, your orgasm dying on her tongue; the mewling noise smothered by the meeting of your mouths. Your hand is trapped between you as your body recovers, and you let your fingertips dip and graze over Quinn's slit. You trace back up to the base of her penis and you pump her slowly, pulling away from her mouth to whisper hoarsely in her ear.

"Will you come for me, Quinn?"

She chokes out a twisted 'yes', and she spills over your fisted palm, and falls away—limp from her release. You stand on shaky legs and you find tissues on Quinn's vanity. You make quick work of cleaning your hand, and you get back on the bed beside her. You lay your head on her chest, and you get comfortable at her side, before pulling the blanket over you both. You hear only her steadying heartbeat and her evening breath, before her voice thunders in your ear.

"What will happen tomorrow?"

You answer sleepily.

"We'll figure it out… But now, we sleep."

You feel her hands push away strands of your hair before you feel her lips press gently against your forehead. You hear her quiet, 'Okay', just before your eyes flutter closed. Your sleep isn't interrupted again.

End.


End file.
